


Loki'd

by lyrical_heart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, But so does OFC, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, My original story sucked, OFC Feels, Rewrite, SHIELD Agent OFC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrical_heart/pseuds/lyrical_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shayne Dawson, a 24 year old retired boxer/trained assassin only wanted a little adventure in her life, along with some answers about her childhood. When SHIELD comes in and asks her to join an elite team of Agents, it's not at all what she expected. Instead of being able to hide her past in the shadows, she's forced to use it as a driving force in her new job.</p>
<p>But when Loki, the temporarily imprisoned God of Mischief escapes, Shayne tries to stop him. Soon, she'll find she has quickly become 'Loki'd'. Will strong will and pride win, or will her feelings get the best of her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loki'd

**Author's Note:**

> I am completely re-writing this entire thing from scratch. As much as I loved the experience of writing the first version of this story, it sucked, and I can do way better.
> 
> This is a lot more serious than most of my other fics, so beware! There will be some fluffy parts, but this is all new, dramatic territory, so if it sucks, or I get details wrong about SHIELD or anything, please let me know. I'm trying to be more accurate in this version. Please read, comment, leave kudos, etc., and enjoy! :)
> 
> Also, Loki isn't nice or reformed yet in this one. I roughly based his character in this off of the version of him seen in the Avengers.

_She looked like she had a hundred things to say, but nothing would come out. The young girl, only 10 years of age stood in her best black dress with white lace trim, black tights, and black shoes. Shannon looked upon the grave where her mother laid in silence. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She wasn’t supposed to have died. If anything, her mother was going to live for a hundred years, or at least, that’s what she’d thought. Shannon recalled the day her mother first showed her how to plant roses in the garden, when she’d taught her about how sometimes the most beautiful and precious things take the most time to grow, and how carefully you must protect those things, while being careful not to shelter them too much._

_A fresh tear fell from her eye at the thought. She tugged on the sleeve of her long black sweater and wiped away the runaway tear. She wanted to say she missed her, that she needed her to come home. Her mother was all she had. She wasn’t supposed to have gotten sick. With her father gone, she had no one. She stood alone at the grave, wishing that she could just turn back the clock and beg her father to stay, to not have run that night. She knew he was in a dangerous business, but she hadn’t expected him to leave so abruptly. Neither of them had._

_He’d said he’d come back for her. But he never did. It had been 3 years after he left that her mother had fallen ill from Pneumonia. It had started as a simple cough, but it had only taken three weeks after that for her cough to become deadly. Shannon clutched the small locket her mother had given her when she was little. Inside stored 2 pictures, one of her mother, and one of her father. She’d been told by her mom that she would never be without them so long as she wore the necklace. And she hadn’t taken it off, besides for getting cleaned up, since that day._

_The sky was grim and grey, with raindrops consistently falling as if heaven itself was grieving the loss of such an endearing, loving woman. The soft ground squished underneath Shannon’s feet as she breathed in the sweet comforting smell of rain. There was a comforting sadness she couldn’t explain filling the air around her. Most of the crowd that had gathered for the humble ceremony had left, plastic chairs left askew behind her. The dirt that laid upon the once freshly dug grave had now been saturated with water, leaving a semi-muddy mess in its wake. She began to silently weep as it dawned on her that there would be no more rainy days filled with fresh baked cookies and Patsy Cline, no more rainy Friday nights with pillow forts and romantic comedies, no more of that which brought her comfort._

_Shannon gripped the locket even tighter as she felt a hand rest gently on her left shoulder. Shannon looked up to see her aunt, her mother’s younger sister, standing next to her with eyes fixed upon the gravestone. It was her mother’s last wish that she go and live with her aunt in New York City. It was such a long way from her home in Kansas, but she knew she had nothing left for her here. As terrified as she was, it was in that moment that Shannon decided she needed to be brave for her mother, and for herself. After all, it’s what she would have wanted. She took one last look at the grave before she shut her eyes and proclaimed to herself that it was time to start her new life._  

* * *

_Left hook._

_Right hook._

_Uppercut jab._

_Cross left._

_Twist right._

_A few more jabs._

_One last hard punch_ , and the punching bag fell with a hard thud from the hinge onto the old wooden floor, creating a brief cloud of dust.

The woman let out a cry of victory as she raised her bloodied fists into the air. She brushed a strand of loose hair from her forehead before she heard a voice call out behind her.

“I take it you have a score to settle with that punching bag, Ms. Dawson?”

The woman didn’t turn around to face her visitor before replying, “Do you usually make a habit of spying on people?”

“Rest assured, Ms. Dawson, I had no ill intentions in coming here today. I only wanted to speak with you about your……particular skill set.”

She scoffed, turning around to come face to face with a man who looked like a gothic pirate, outfit black from head to toe, including his eye patch.

“Skill set? In case you’re wondering, I don’t take hit man jobs anymore.”

“I’m well aware of your history and your background involving your specific skills, but that’s not what I’m here for.”

“If you’re here to ask me to get back into the ring, forget it. I’ve already been there and done that. The IFBA has already bugged me enough about it.” She spoke as she began to unwrap her sort knuckles.

“I’m not here to ask you to box again. Although making it to the semi-finals in the featherweight division 2 years in a row is rather impressive.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you train day in and day out for half your life.” She threw her bloodied bandages into the nearest trash can.

“That’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you. You have the drive, the discipline, and the stamina to be a fighter, but I think there’s a bit more untapped potential inside you that even you don’t understand yet.”

She scoffed out a short laugh. “What, are you saying you want to train me? Sorry, Mr. Miyagi, but I’m not interested.”

“It’s not so much an offer, Ms. Dawson, but rather a matter of when you decide you’d like to do more than just break punching bags every day. You and I both know you miss the rush of hand to hand combat, and declaring yourself as retired at the age of 23 is a lot like giving up before ever really getting the chance to win.”

She reached down to pick up her gym bag, and slung it over her shoulder. “Look, it’s real nice that you’re interested in my career and all, but I really can’t accept your offer, whatever it is.”

She walked past the man, placed her hands on the metal bar of the door, when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“This isn’t about your boxing career, Shayne. I’m here to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime, where you could learn to utilize and hone not just a few of your skills, but all of them.”

She turned around to face him as he dropped his hand from her shoulder. “What’s the catch? What’s so great about your organization?”

“Our organization isn’t like anything else. We deal with protecting the people of this planet, from attacks both nearby, and far away.”

“Far away? Oh, please don’t tell me you’re some crazy alien hunter league.”

“We don’t hunt anyone. We’re sort of like……the government division of peace keepers.”

“So you just make sure people play nice with one another?”

“In a sense, yes. But we also need someone with your cunning skills and quick mind.”

“Yeah, so does everyone else.” She mumbled as she turned around and leaned into the door to push it open.

“We can clear your history, Ms. Dawson. We have the power to protect you from unwanted threats. You know, like the ones you’ve been getting from a few disgruntled former members of Interpol? We can help. And, we can help you find answers about your father.” She pulled away from the door and turned to face him.

“Not saying that I am, but, if I were to agree to be a part of your little program, how would I start?”

Finally, he smiled. Come to this address tomorrow morning at 10. The person at the front desk should send you where you need to go. I’ve heard great things about you, Shayne. Don’t let me down by running away again.” He handed her a business card with the information.

And with that, he walked out the door, and onto the busy street.

What the hell just happened?


End file.
